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02:29 pm: I Has a Sweet Potato
You know, a lot of times I write up random posts and then don't post them. But Best Beloved just called me, and I could not really explain why I was inarticulate about sweet potatoes, so I said I'd go ahead and post this. That way, she can read it at work and know just what kind of day it has been. (Short version, for those who do not feel like reading the whole post: ARRRRRRG. Fucking sweet potatoes.)

The longer version, summarized in conversation form:

Dog: I am starving.
Me: Actually, no. You aren't starving. You get two very good meals a day. And treats. And Best Beloved fed you extra food while I was gone.
Me: I saw you get fed not four hours ago! You are not starving.
Dog: Pity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.
Me: I am now ignoring you.
Dog: Did you hear me? I am starving.
Dog: Are you seriously ignoring me? Fine.

[There is a pause, during which the dog exits the room in a pointed manner.]

[From the kitchen, there comes a noise like someone is eating a baseball bat.]

Me, yelling: What the hell are you doing?
Me: *makes haste for the kitchen and finds dog there*
Dog: *picks up entire raw sweet potato, which is what was causing the baseball bat noise, and flees for the bedroom*
Me: *chases dog, retrieves most of sweet potato, less the portion which has disappeared into dog's gullet*
Me: ...That can't be good for you. It's a RAW SWEET POTATO.
Dog: I had to do it. I haven't been fed. Ever.
Me: You realize you aren't normal. Normal dogs don't steal raw sweet potatoes.
Dog, sadly: I was badly brought up.
Me: Yes. Yes, you were.
Dog: By people who starved me.
Me: Oh, no. I am not doing this again.
Me: *exits the room, bearing sweet potato*

[There is a pause.]

[There is a noise like someone is trying to eat a baseball bat very very quietly.]

Me: Oh, for the love of GOD.
Me: *heads off to the kitchen*
Dog: I am not eating a raw sweet potato.
Me: You have sweet potato parts all over your snout.
Dog: But you don't actually SEE a raw sweet potato, do you? So maybe that's just - um. A birthmark.
Me: Did you seriously eat a whole sweet potato?
Dog: You don't listen. I told you, I wasn't eating a sweet potato.
Me, searching around fruitlessly: Look. NO MORE SWEET POTATOES.
Me: Oh, what am I saying? This is you we're talking about, here. *goes to hide all the sweet potatoes that are left - which isn't many - in the fridge, because some people cannot be trusted*
Dog: *attempts to look thwarted*
Dog: *does not succeed, because her tail is wagging so hard small cyclones are forming in the kitchen*
Me: *has a very bad feeling about this*

[There is a pause, during which I do not even bother trying to return to what I was doing. I just stand in the computer room, waiting.]

[There is, as I wholly expected, a baseball-bat-eating noise.]

Me, stomping back to the kitchen: OKAY. GIVE ME THE DAMNED SWEET POTATO.
Dog, looking up guiltily: What sweet potato?
Dog: Oh, did you want this? I just, um. Found it. Lying here.
Me: *confiscates the sweet potato and deposits it in the locking trashcan*
Me: Let us say no more about this.
Dog: ...Nooooo! They be stealin' my sweet potato!

[I attempt to remember what I was doing before the sweet potato episode.]

[Some ten minutes later, I succeed, and return to it.]

[NOT ONE MINUTE LATER, I hear a noise with which I have become all too familiar.]

Me, bonking head on desk: Arg.
Me, arriving in kitchen: How did you even get another sweet potato?
Dog, smugly: I have my ways.
Me: Are you punishing me for being away for several days? I was at a FUNERAL, you know. It wasn't FUN.
Dog: How would I know? You didn't take me. You left me here with only one human to look after my needs. One human is NOT ENOUGH.
Me: *shuts dog in bedroom, conducts a sweep of the kitchen to track down all remaining sweet potatoes, wipes up random sweet potato particles from floor, eradicates all traces of sweet potato from house*
Me: *lets dog out*
Dog, sulkily: Oh, so you think you've won.

[I watch her go about her business with the same sense of overwhelming doom that heroines of Victorian novels get when they meet Count Sinistrus Grimblack for the first time.]

[Half an hour later, there is a wetter, juicier eating noise, as though someone was eating a very moist baseball bat.]

Me, wearily: What NOW?
Dog, hunched over the remains of a butternut squash: *says something garbled because her mouth is full*
Me: Okay. Fine.
Me: *stomps over, empties entire vegetable bowl into trash*
Dog: I'm not even remotely sorry. I told you I was hungry. And you went to a funeral without me.

[A half-hour later, there is another baseball-bat-eating noise from the kitchen. The dog, who apparently does not know how to win gracefully, has found another sweet potato, or possibly caused one to materialize from the Rift.]

Me, hauling chewed sweet potato parts from the mouth of a dog very reluctant to part with them: Oh my god how is this my life?
Dog: Don't you think it would just be easier to feed me?
Dog: Actually, I feel...um...not so good.
Dog: *throws up* *vomit is very bright orange*

[Unfortunate details ensue.]

Some time later:
Me, attempting to rescue something from the wreckage: So. What have we learned from this?
Dog: Sweet potatoes are yummy!
Other Dog, looking thoughtful: I should pay more attention to crunching noises. Sweet potatoes are probably yummy.
Me: I need a lobotomy.

And that, Best Beloved - and anyone else who made it through that - is What Kind of Day It Has Been.


[ETA 6/22/2007: Hi! I can't reply to comments on this entry any more; I'm reading them all, and loving them, but responding is beyond me. So:

If you'd like to link people here, feel free.

If you'd like to leave a comment, please do. They make me happy.

If you'd like to repost or use this elsewhere, please don't; I'd prefer you to link. And no commercial use of my work without my permission, please.

If you see this reposted or used elsewhere, I'd very much appreciate a comment or email - thefourthvine at livejournal dot com - to let me know where.

Thank you for reading!

...And, yes, she has had more sweet potato; I gave it to her when the comments on this hit the tenth page. I figured she'd earned it.]


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Date:September 12th, 2008 11:40 am (UTC)


Palin Links Iraq & 9/11 | McCain: Link Is 'Naive' voices.washingtonpost.com/the-trail/2008/09/11/palin_endorses_idea_mccain_cal.html
Date:September 21st, 2008 03:31 am (UTC)

I need good web hosting

Hey Guys!

I am looking for best web hosting provider where I could host many domains...
I also need big bandwidth and space.

Could you please recommend for me some good host? :)

[User Picture]
Date:September 27th, 2008 03:37 am (UTC)
Someone pointed me at this because I was having a really crappy day, and I clicked the link, not thinking it would REALLY cheer me up. Fast forward five minutes. I have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. Thank you.
Date:September 27th, 2008 07:56 pm (UTC)


good material thanks
Date:September 28th, 2008 07:13 pm (UTC)

I, too...

...click on this when I'm having a bad day and am in need of up-cheering.

Thank you SO MUCH!
Date:October 2nd, 2008 05:50 am (UTC)


Did you hear? Russian agressor attacks USA...
More info here: hotusanewx.blogspot.com

Date:October 13th, 2008 01:25 am (UTC)

I feel your pain..


I just want you to know.. I understand totally!

I had a similar excapade recently involving a guinea pig and a blackberry.

Thanks for sharing!
[User Picture]
Date:October 18th, 2008 06:23 am (UTC)
So. frakkin. funny! I'm linking this from my lj to make sure I never lose it.
Date:October 20th, 2008 07:20 pm (UTC)

This is why we have cats

Oh except that one of our cats does this with anything wrapped in plastic. The first time she ate the center out of a freshly baked cake that had saran wrap over the top of it. Her absolute favorite is cough drops. The crinklier the wrapper the better. She likes to hide them and then bring them out at 3 am to just rustle the wrapper.
[User Picture]
Date:November 10th, 2008 08:35 am (UTC)


[User Picture]
Date:November 13th, 2008 07:25 am (UTC)
This is so funny that I actually fell off my chair laughing, as well as making a lot of undignified noises.

Thank you for encapsulating Life With Dogs.
[User Picture]
Date:November 13th, 2008 04:41 pm (UTC)
Me: You realize you aren't normal. Normal dogs don't steal raw sweet potatoes.
Dog, sadly: I was badly brought up.

*weeping with laughter* My cat has been known to molest regular potatoes. We also can't leave kiwifruit on the counter or we'll find mysterious holes in them. (I believe she thinks they're mice?)
[User Picture]
Date:November 14th, 2008 01:26 pm (UTC)
LOL Mine steal mangoes. They don't crunch so much. LOL
Date:November 14th, 2008 05:36 pm (UTC)

Dogs are such wonderful creatures.

Thank you so much. I don't have a pet but this story makes me want one so much (maybe, I need a lobotomy, lol) But it was so endearing and sweet. Thank you for taking the time to post.

Reminds me much of the conversations I used to have with my beloved tom cat before he passed away. He would literally lay in the middle of the floor while I laid on the sofa and we would carry on a conversation, with each of us respecting the other and never interrupting until the other had made their point.

Saw the link from someone on twitter. Thanks. www.twitter.com/velreno
[User Picture]
Date:November 14th, 2008 08:24 pm (UTC)

Totally True!

I laughed so hard I cried! I was picturing my hubby in the role of me and my lurcher in the role of dog! She has actually stolen sweet potatoes. They must be some sort of dog narcotic! Well actually she steals any food she can get her mouth on! Most recently hubby got home with tacos fresh from Taco Bell, which is a big treat for us living in England. The scene hubby eating in living room. Knock knock, oh the painters are back. Hubby walks to door via the kitchen, depositing taco "safely" on the 4 foot tall table. Takes 10 steps from table to the door, lets painters in, returns to table conspicously missing said taco. Hubby says "you little thief where are you?" Follows the noises and finds one bite left of taco and satisfied lurcher. Let's just say it was not pretty afterwards. When I called there were many noises of frustration and only one distinguishable word "Taco"!
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